Liquor and Lipgloss
by I-am-the-survivor
Summary: A series of Hayffie one shots by yours truly! Rating varies with the prompt! Be sure to send in prompts with any specifics that you please (Please forgive me for this god awful summary. Eventual M)
1. Blame it on Whiskey

**Hey! This update is totally two days late so sorry! But I ended up being super busy XD SHocker! I know! Anywho this is my new reboot of my old story 50 Shades of Hayffie but with better writing and a better title! Enjoy.**

These days smiles were a bit difficult to come by.

I stand in the middle of the meadow, now a graveyard, paying my respect for those lost during the war. It was difficult to come knowing so many buried here were by my hand but I felt the need to.

Every day slipped into a routine. Wake up, go to the seam, pick up bread from Peeta's bakery, say hello to Katniss, force Haymitch to get up to feed the geese, go to the meadow, repeat.

I had to move to twelve after the war. I liked to tell myself that it was easier this way, or that it was easier this way. But either way I know I can't look at the dreaded white suits patrolling the Capitol streets the same, a simple glance at Snow's mansion would destroy me. I tried for a while but even my apartment seemed small and unbearable. Not to mention it was in shambles. During the war people took anything they could find. Food, clothes, valuables. It was a miracle I hadn't found a dead body to be honest.

I think back to my neighbor Denise. She was a nice woman. During the war she had been spontaneously killed. No explanation was given. To be honest, after so many funerals one doesn't need an explanation anymore.

The stars light my path as I make my way back to the house slowly. Giving myself time to reflect is healthy, I suppose. Healthier than drinking, at least. Today seemed so much faster than the other days. The sun seemed to disappear quickly leaving the quiet of night to accompany my journey home.

I moved in with Haymitch over a year ago. It had been a month after the war ended when he had found me. My apartment was completely empty and all I had was three outfits. I had to scrounge by and make what little money on small jobs I could do. Nights often ended up with me over at a friend or someone else's home. It was a means to an end and nobody would hire me for a full time job.

To be fair who would? To the rebels I was the reaper who marched their children to their deaths every year. To the Capitols I was a rebel who contributed in taking apart their beloved city which seemed to slowly be making repairs, emphasis on slowly.

I hadn't been answering their letters and my phone was stolen, ripped straight out of the wall! So the children had been concerned about how I was. Haymitch came down and when he saw the state of my home practically forced me to come live here.

I look up at the house in front of me with a silent graciousness. Without Haymitch I don't know where I'd be at the moment. To be honest, I probably would've been captured and killed during the war. It didn't matter which side did it. They both had motivation. But he had hunted me down during a conference and dragged me out of the room. He forced a suitcase in my hand and told me to run. So I did.

I open the door and step inside letting out a silent sigh as I spot Haymitch sprawled across the couch numbly watching some show with a bottle of whiskey clutched in one hand and the remote in the other. I suppose after the games went offline television was more enjoyable now. At least to Haymitch it was.

"You were out longer than normal." He states without looking back. Most days I'm home around five but today was an exception.

"I just got lost in thought I suppose." I say quietly moving to go to the stairs.

"Effs wait. Come sit." He says gently. I tense slightly moving back to sit with him. I lift his legs off of the couch. As I take a seat he kicks his legs back up resting them on my lap. Too exhausted to care I sigh and allow him to stay that way. "What's wrong?"

I simply shake my head. That was the problem. Sometimes when I would wander twelve I could never find out what was wrong.

"Sweetheart, you haven't been yourself. It kind of scares me to say it but I'm beginning to miss your nagging."

"Neither are you. You're suddenly concerned about me?"

"Maybe it's the whiskey." He pokes with a smirk. But not even his childish teasing couldn't bring a smile to my lips. He looks at me for a while staring, analyzing before sitting up with a impish grin plastered on his lips.

"What?"

"I'm going to make you smile."

"Why?"

"The same reason I came back that day. I- the kids are worried about you. You wander this place like a ghost. You leave early, come back late. It's like you're not even here sometimes." He places his hand on mine sending my mind back in time.

 _Knock knock knock._

 _I drag myself from my small bed in the corner of the room. Who could it be at this hour? It had to be at least two in the morning. I grab the broom leaning up against the fridge. If I was going to get jumped I was at least going to defend myself. Or try to_

 _Knock knock knock._

 _I swing open the door parting my lips to let whoever was behind the door have a piece of my mind. I may not be under the best living conditions but at least I still have manners._

" _Trinket?" My mouth was left gaping when my eyes were met with a familiar silver pair._

" _Haymitch… What are you doing here?" I place the broom to the side but remained standing in front of the door._

" _You gonna let me in?" I hesitate looking back into my nearly empty apartment. The only thing in the sitting room was an old couch. Everything else had been taken, sold._

" _I'm not sure that's a good idea."_

" _Sweetheart, I- the kids are worried about you."_

" _You are?"_

" _Yeah. I've seen this place. If your place is like any others here then you're not safe here."_

" _What am I supposed to do? Pack my bags and leave?"_

" _Yeah." He grabs my hand lightly forcing me to look at him. I didn't even know my gaze had wandered._

" _Haymitch it's two in the morning."_

" _I don't care. Come back to twelve with me."_

"So I'm gonna make you smile." I shake my head slightly. This man is unbelievably stubborn.

Next thing I know his hands are relentlessly brushing my sides trying to coax a laugh out of me.

"Haymitch!" I squirm trying to get away from him but he was persistent. He kept tickling me until a loud laugh escaped my lips. Even then he didn't stop until I begged for mercy.

I get purchase on his chest pushing him backwards. His hands caught my wrists pulling me on top of him accidentally. We stay there frozen in time for what seems like an eternity. Something begs me to lean in that much closer to brush my lips against his.

He is the first once to move sitting up with me still in his lap. His slightly chapped lips press against my forehead. I close my eyes relishing in the tender moment while it lasted.

"You should smile more." He states before pushing me off gently and walking back to his room.

I sit on the couch in a mixture of shock and astonishment. What had gotten into him? My minds wracks for solutions long after I had settled down in my own bed. Finally I gave in to sleep letting my heavy eyelids drift closed

I suppose for tonight I'll have to blame it on the whiskey.


	2. The Bet

**Hey! Sorry for the late update but I needed inspiration! Also when picturing Effie's dress imagine a lovechild between the one Liz wore for thg's moviefone interview and Regina's blue dress from the episode Queen of Hearts. Any who enjoy the chapter**

 **SMUTTTTT**

It is hard to focus on anything when someone is kissing down the side of her throat. A moan pulls from her throat as rough hands move slowly up her thighs teasingly. She wanted to push him away. She should push him away. She should walk back to the penthouse right now. This never should have started in the first place.

" _Haymitch! We need to get ready!" She calls from upstairs slipping on the new golden dress. Electrica was the newest stylist and all of the rage in the Capitol. To be fair the dress was fairly short. A reflective gold with patches of sewn silver, empire waist band that flowed after clinging to the chest. The fabric was skin tight with no back minus the crisscrossing jewels holding the fabric together._

" _I told you Trinket I'm not going!" She had just secured the short black wig to her head. The bob hit to about her chin and sparkled with gold glitter that matched her dress._

" _And I told you that if you don't go I will make sure Twelve doesn't get their next liquor shipping for three months." She laughs hearing the groan from the room next door. The easiest bribe in the book. One liquor shortage and a little white lie could get someone very far._

 _It took only an hour and a half to begrudgingly get him to shower, trim his beard, and get dressed. The tie was probably the most part because he kept trying to undo it whenever he thought she wasn't paying any attention._

 _It had only been an hour into the party before he had been picking fights. Of course he had found Chaff and Finnick and of course they were up to no good. The three hooligans were antagonizing two patrons at the bar. They didn't seem too entertained by the older men. SHe pretended not to notice. She busied herself flirting with sponsors to better their chances for next year's games. Of course they hadn't stood a chance this year. They were both too young. Too young…_

 _She is snapped out of her thoughts when loud shouts echo above the beating music. Her attention is drawn to the bar where Finnick watches in amusement as a very drunk Haymitch and Chaff try to fight off two men they were no match for. Chaff was swinging his stump at a much larger man while Haymitch was taking punches from the other._

" _No, no, no…." She rushes over to the pair putting herself between the two groups of men. "Please. I'm sorry. They've both obviously had too much to drink. I will be cutting them off. I promise they will not trouble you for the rest of the night."_

" _On one condition. We get your number." Internally she could not roll her eyes any farther. On the outside, however, she faked her best smile and passed the two men a number she made up off the top of her head._

 _She tipped the bartender and practically dragged Haymitch into the elevator, trying to avoid as many people as possible._

" _Hey Sweetheart." He smirks._

" _Hello Haymitch."_

" _Wanna drink?" He holds up a flask waving it in front of her view. She should have known. It'd be too easy to simply cut them off for the night without him arguing._

" _Sure." She clenches her teeth in a sickeningly sweet smile. She takes the flask from his fingers. With a short breath she tips back the flask chugging the rest of the alcohol inside. Unfortunately for her, the metal container was almost completely full. She already had a few martinis and a glass of wine or two at the party. Haymitch, on the other hand, carried the strong stuff. It tasted like a mix of gin and absinthe. Of course he would mix them._

" _What the hell Trinket? You finished it!"_

" _So?"_

" _You owe me another drink." He takes a step closer trying to be intimidating._

" _And if I say no?" She raises an eyebrow with a smirk._

 _Suddenly his hands are on her hips pushing her back against the elevator wall. "You don't want to do this Princess." He warns lightly._

" _And if I do?"_

 _It wasn't clear which one of them leaned in first but their lips ended up clashing together in a battle of lust and pent up aggression._

That's how she ended up here with Haymitch pinning her against the wall kissing down the side of her throat. The hallway was desolate beside the two of them.

"Did watching me fight turn you on?" He whispers in her ear huskily. A soft moan was his answer as she pushed the ripped remains of his shirt off his shoulders. At one point she had torn it down the middle popping many of the buttons. He had hiked up her skirt and rid of her panties long ago.

She pushes his pants down enough to gain access to the lower half of him. She moans as he thrusts two fingers inside her roughly. He begins pumping quickly stroking her clit with his thumb. Hurriedly she pushes his boxers down desperate to free him from the restraining cloth.

"Fuck." She whispers as he pulls his fingers out fully before slamming them back in with the third one added. She was so close. So close…

Just as she was about to fall over the edge he pulls his fingers out. He licks his fingers clean with a smirk spread across his face. She had had enough of his teasing. She hooks one leg around her waist grinding against him.

"I need you." She whispers. He takes her other leg hitching it across his hip. He thrusts deep inside her brutally knocking the air out of her lungs.

"Well well look what we have here." A voice says. She gasps pushing Haymitch away before adjusting herself. A blush ran across her chest spreading to her cheeks in a matter of seconds. Standing directly at the end of the hall was Finnick and Chaff. Chaff had a smirk plastered across his face and Finnick was trying to hold in his laughter.

"We were just going to check in on Haymitch to see how he was doing. But I see he's doing pretty well." Finnick lets out a loud laugh. She couldn't even look them in the eye.

"I was until you two showed up. Get lost. Both of you." They both laugh loudly as they scamper away.

As the two men reach the elevator Finnick slips a twenty into Chaff's open palm.


	3. Grandma!

**Happy second day of Hayffie week guys! Instead of bringing another drawing I decided hey! I'm about 2-3 updates behind on L &L! Oh shit XD This was originally intended on being an angsty prompt on how Effie got pregnant then put up the kid for adoption but instead I scrolled through the Hayffie tag, saw people were addressing Katniss and Peeta as the kids and then I was like, you know what this needs? Willow. So enjoy the fluff for it will not last long! Updates will continue with Hayffie week. I will be catching up with ELS and Infected over the weekend. **

Why Effie always insisted on calling them children he didn't know. All he knows is now he has a little munchkin running around calling him grandpa. It had started out as a joke between him and Katniss and then it spread like a wildfire. Willow had heard Effie call them children practically since she was born. Katniss had simply made the joke that if they were kids that would make him grandpa. He was alright with the nickname, at least he made it to being a grandpa. So Willow had taken on the name for him.

One day when Willow was helping him feed the geese the little brunette looked up from the bread she was tossing over the wooden fence. "Grandpa?"

"Yeah Munchkin?" He responds looking over at the girl. At five years old she could hardly see through the fence much less reach over it. She stood on her toes perched on the railing of the wood looking out at the geese, blue eyes shining with wonder.

"Do you love Auntie Effie?" The question draws a sigh from his lips. He vowed long ago he would never love anyone again. Not after what happened to his girl. Then of course a certain pink wigged woman waltzed right into his life and flipped it all around. Given, he didn't quite like her at first. Actually if he was being accurate, he absolutely hated her. He wouldn't have minded if she simply disappeared without another word like all of the escorts did after a year or two. But she didn't leave after the first, not even the second. No, this infuriating woman stayed for eight long years. He listened to her whimper at nights when he was drinking himself into a stupor. He heard her bare feet padding across the kitchen floor late at night when he wasn't quite unconscious yet. He watched her mask break a little more every year. That was destroyed when a certain voice called out in the spark of love, of defiance, of protection.

" _I volunteer as tribute!"_

Who knew four words could change someone's life so much? He wasn't quite sure when he began to care for Effie. Whether it was between the rough sex to fill the silence of another lost year or the tear filled eyes before every reaping. But he was sure he cared by the time the Victor's Tour had come. A gunshot rang out echoing through the nearly empty halls of the Justice Building. He pushed Effie behind him before dashing in front of her to grab Katniss. Later that night when the hysterical girl had finally rested Effie came into his room. Her eyes were bloodshot, nose as red as the lipstick he had spotted on her dresser one day. Blonde hair haloing her face like an angel. She didn't have to say a single word. She simply crawled into his bed and buried her face into his shoulder. He spent the night rubbing her back until she had fallen asleep.

It had taken him until the middle of the night to realize that was the first time she had let him see her bare when he was sober.

He realized he loved her when it was already too late. Snow had figured it out before even he did. He used her as a tool against him. He tortured her. He teased her, lied to her. All because he was stupid enough to fall in love again.

He didn't breathe again until he saw her chest rising and falling before his eyes. She was hardly covered by the white gown that had once been used for sleep. Now it seemed to be the one thing covering her wounds. He had gathered her into his arms taking off his own jacket and held her until the medic came.

"Grandpa!" The loud call of the curly haired child next to him dragged him from his memories.

"What?"

She let out a long groan that reminded him so much of Katniss. It forced a chuckle from his lips. "Do you love Auntie Effie?"

"She lives with me doesn't she?"

The look the child gave him could have been a dead on impersonation of her mother. So much that he swears besides the blue eyes, he was talking to a child version of her. Hopefully she has the charm of her father. He chuckled to himself at the thought.

"That's not the answer!" She shook her head hopping off of the fence. She gestured with her hand for him to kneel down to her size. With a groan he settled himself down in front of her. "Auntie Effie says those questions are supposed to be answered yes or no. It's pro… pro…"

"Proper?"

"Yeah! But if it's a secret you can tell me. I pinky promise I won't tell." She thrusts her hand on offering him the smallest finger in a gesture.

He laughs taking her own pinky in his. "Yes. Yes I do."

"But I call her Auntie Effie." Her eyebrows furrow as if trying to figure out the reason the seasons change or where the sun goes during the night. All questions she had asked at one point.

"Yeah so?"

"You said you love her and you're Grandpa."

"That's right."

"So she must be Grandma!" The child's deduction forced laughter from his throat. Effie's reaction would have been even better. That is, if she didn't kill him before he could see it.

"That's right. But remember it's our secret." Her curls bounce with the quick nod she gives before rushing inside.

Later that night he cradles the only bottle he has had all day long after Willow had left. He recalls the conversation he had with the small girl. He had never told her he had loved her. At least, not those exact words. But she knew. She had to.

"Haymitch?" A voice calls from the kitchen. The exact person he had been thinking of. He strolls into the room finding bags lying upon the table however that wasn't what the blonde had been focusing on. Instead she had her eyes trained on the fridge where a long paper hung near the top suspended by a magnet. The chair pulled up next to it answered his first question. His next was answered by what was on the paper.

Drawn hastily in crayon were five stick figures and a few blobs that were oddly shaped but he drew to the conclusion that they were geese after he spotted the brown lines as the "fence". Roughly written above each head was a name. Mom, dad, me, grandma, and grandpa.

Wait. Uh oh.

He met her eyes with a laugh. She was pissed. There was no hiding that. "She asked if I loved you."

"And what did you say?" Her face softened waiting for the answer. The only one she got was a soft kiss to her temple.

The drawing remained on the fridge.


	4. Payback

**Yo party people! Capitol vs Twelve? First reaction? Prank war. Bring it on.**

It had started out innocent, honestly. Well, as innocent as an accident could possibly get. It was the 67th games and he had way too much to drink. That's something to say for Haymitch. He normally didn't get absolutely hammered but that day had been a fine exemption. It had been a particularly brutal death that year. The first one, the boy, he hadn't even made it through the beginning. He had been jolted off of his platform when it rose, he lost his balance, and fell off before the timer even got to ten. Well, that's what he had made it look like. Haymitch had known. That thing doesn't jolt. It didn't do it when he was reaped, and it most certainly didn't now.

The girl, however, was brutal. She had lived past the bloodbath, had even made it to the final five. Well, it didn't last long. A pair of Career's found her hiding my the river. She somehow had killed one of their teammates. Whether from accident or pure luck he wasn't sure. The living solo Career had her pinned before she could even blink. Slowly he cut off each of her limbs with the blade of his sword before decapitating the poor girl. She was already long dead. Later that night he was killed by a girl tribute with an axe.

He had gotten smashed trying to purge the sounds of her pleading from from his minds. Her pathetic whines still haunted him today.

" _Someone! Someone help me please!"_

He had waltzed right up to Effie that dreaded night. He had tripped on something or other. Air, rug, himself? Who knows. But the drink had ended up right down the chest of Effie Trinket herself. The dark red seeped through the pristine white silk. He had told her white was a bad idea.

The night had been a blur of her screaming at him that he did it on purpose. She simply didn't believe him. That next morning when he woke up with a killer migraine he discovered she had thrown away it all. That simple little pill that could make it all go away in an instant was gone. She was sitting at the table with a pleased smirk on her face.

It continued on like that for years. He would prank her in some way and she would get him back. It became a constant cycle to push the door open before stepping into it, smell the food before you tasted it, check your drink to make sure someone didn't mess with it.

But on the 71st games the tables were turned. She struck first this time. When he had passed out on the couch unaware to the rest of the world she had snuck in.

"Haymitch!" Chaff's voice calls. The man pulls his face from the counter to greet his friend. Instead what he's greeted with is a laughing group of victors. Finnick, Jo, Chaff, and even Mags is silently laughing to the side.

"What are you laughing at?" He questions. The tall boy with reddish hair thrusts a photo towards him, amusement sparkling in his green eyes. It's a photo of his sprawled out on the couch, but that's not it. Firmly latched to his head is a hot pink wig, his face is powdered in white and pink, across his lips is a shade of pink that strangely matches the wig.

"How in the hell?" He looks in the reflection of his glass finding his face blank. How on Earth did she manage to get it on and off of him before he even notices? It doesn't make sense. It didn't have to. All he knew was he was going to get his revenge.

That night he pilfers through her bathroom throwing out any cosmetics he could find around. All he had left was a bottle of shampoo, some toothpaste, and a bar of soap. Everything else was tossed, especially those god awful wigs.

The next morning he was awoken by a pillow beating him across the head.

"Haymitch Abernathy you wake up right now!" A shrill voice calls. He opens one eye with a slight smirk. The sight, however, washes that away immediately. Effie stands next to his head a pillow clenched tightly in her fist. Her cheeks were flushed with anger and embarrassment. Blonde curls framed her face, wild from rest. She was clad in a nightgown that barely made it past midthigh. He couldn't help but imagine what it would be like after she had just woken up, riding up her thigh exposing her-

 _Thunk!_ She hit him across the head with the pillow again. He grabs the dreaded thing before she could make another swing and throws it across the room. He catches her by the wrist and pulls. He intended on knocking her off balance, not her landing on top of him.

She wrenched herself free and began landing slaps on his chest.

"How dare you!" He heard. "Do you have any idea-" His eyes wander to her breasts and he can't help but stare. "-owe me!" He snatches her wrists once again forcing him to look at her. Her breath catches in her throat realizing their close proximity. "I-... You-" The blush from her cheeks spreads a rosy color across her chest. Perfectly white teeth catch her bottom lip drawing my tongue out to swipe across my suddenly very dry ones. I could feel her breath on my lips pulling me closer as if by a magnet. I could feel every movement of her chest, the quick beating of my own heart pounding against her hands.

Neither of them can say who leaned in first but their lips clash together in a whole new battle. They move from the couch to the wall. Her back pressed against the cool paint. His hands wander up her abdomen settling on their breasts squeezing roughly.

That night they had started a whole new war of the Capitol vs. Twelve.


	5. What Would They Think of You?

**AU AU AU! Alright so I was inspired by mi amiga Gwyn cause rn we're doing a superhero AU (but they're a team in that what ev) and a post on tumblr talking about what if a hero and a villain roomed together and treated each other's wounds after battle. TTHEEEN it said what if they were attracted to each other and I was like "That's it. That's my AU story." I really liked writing it and I may consider making it into a series once Infected ends. Also I may or may not have the lullaby from Holes stuck in my head.**

It was no secret that she was attracted to Haymitch Abernathy, in fact Portia and CInna teased her about it all the time. It had actually become a daily thing now. They bicker and fight but they end up a mere centimeters apart. She always dismisses herself before they can go any farther than that.

It's not that she was scared, no, she had a job to do. She found children and bad homes and lured them away with soft melodic singing or small enchanting tricks with the weather.

She is a mutant. She uses her powers to advantage. Able to bend the weather with the twist of her finger she enchants the children's minds and pulls them away from the previous mindless task.

She remembers a particular child, she wasn't any older than twelve. A frail poor little thing. Mother gone and father an alcoholic working at the local mine. She had found the unfortunate little dear crying in the corner. That was the first time she had ever actually shown herself to one of the ones she helps. She had kneeled in front of the girl and told her everything would be alright. She took the child by the hand marvelling silently at the smooth skin and led her away. The Reaper, is what they called her.

She didn't know where the kids go afterwards. She just delivers them to her bosses, the Gamemakers. They promise her they'll find them good homes. Somewhere deep in her heart, she can't find it in him to trust them. She does anyway, because if she doesn't then she's alone. Without anyone. Anyone but Haymitch.

Haymitch Abernathy is her roommate, begrudgingly so. She had needed a place to stay and he offered the cheapest rent. That was five years ago and he still hadn't made a move. Maybe he simply didn't feel the same way.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"They call her the Reaper." Beetee states, his voice muffled from the abuse taken by the communicator. "She lures mutant children from their homes and delivers them to Snow and the Gamemakers. From there they are trained to be mindless soldiers. If they fail training, they're killed. Not many make it through training."

"We did." Haymitch answers gruffly.

"That's not the point Haymitch. The point is you need to take her out, Coin's orders. She strikes every night at midnight."

"You got it four eyes." Haymitch hangs up not even bothering to say goodbye. What kind of sick woman leads children from their homes? The thought makes his hands tremble fingers denting the metal of the flask under his incredible strength.

"Haymitch I'm home!" A voice calls from the kitchen. He hears rustling coming from the kitchen before the blonde appears by his door. He surveys her with a slight smirk. Her hair was swept back by the wind, cheeks flushed blood red from the cold, still shivering slightly. He sets the flask down behind him burying it in his blankets. She didn't need to know what he was. It'd only put her in danger.

"Where you been?" He asked surveying the bag in her hand.

"I just went out shopping." She took a step forward sending a bottle rolling across the floor. "Honestly Haymitch, is it so hard to clean up after yourself?" There she goes again. Five seconds in the house and she was already starting her rant. He zoned out studying her body one again. The pea coat draped across her shoulders hugged her waist nicely. His eyes dropped to her seemingly endless legs hardly covered by the dress that brushed right above her knees.

"Are you even listening to me?" She screeches.

"Would you be more mad if I lied and said yes or if I said no?" He chuckles with a smirk. He liked watching her get angry and frustrated. It was incredibly intriguing. Sexy, even.

"Haymitch! For once could you just pull your head out of your drink-" He zones her out again standing this time. He comes closer approaching until their bodies are touching, her back pressed against the door. His fingers settle on her waist stroking the smooth fabric. He could feel her breath on his lips sending chills up and down his spine.

"I was wondering how close I'd have to get to shut you up." He states, amusement sparkling in his eyes.

"Haymitch you are drunk. You don't know what you're doing."

"So?"

"So if I take advantage of this situation you will surely regret it tomorrow and I-" He cuts her off crashing his lips against her own. It was heated, filled with pent up desire and lust. He left several marks biting on her lips. He wanted to remember this. It wouldn't be that hard considering he had only one drink. Her lips tasted better than any alcohol he had ever encountered. He had meant to just fluster her with a quick kiss but he couldn't find the power within himself to stop. She was addicting. Everything about her. He couldn't halt his wandering hands or the rough kisses. Her legs hooked around his waist and there was no going back.

XXXXXXXXXX

Later that night she woke wrapped in Haymitch's arms. She smiled to herself at the memories before climbing out of his arms. She had to get to work. She scribbles a nonsensical note about having paperwork to do before putting on a nightgown and stepping out into the chilly winter night.

Her bare feet leave prints in the snow, flakes of frozen ice catching in her hair. That was a benefit of her powers. She couldn't feel the cold or heat. She wears coats simply because they're fashionable. She shivered during the night so that Haymitch would pull her closer into his embrace during the night.

Haymitch… What would he think of her if he knew what she was? Would he care that she was a mutant? Hell, would he even remember any of this tomorrow morning?

She reaches the house of the next child peeking inside the window. A boy sits in front of the stove watching bread rise with curiosity sparkling in his bright blue eyes. She can't help but smile at the sight. So young yet he already knows what he wants to do. Suddenly a woman comes from around the corner screaming at the child. The boy appears startled, frightened even. The winds begin to pick up reacting to her own emotions as she watches the scene in front of her. As the poor boy opens his mouth to defend himself, the mother slaps him across the head. Her blood runs cold and she considers going in there and taking care of the mother herself. But no. That's not her job. She follows along the house as the boy retreats tears welling in his eyes. She finds him collapsed in a small bed crying lightly.

She pushes open the window softly singing a lullaby her mother used to sing her to sleep.

" _If only, if only," the woodpecker sighs,_

" _The bark on the trees was soft as the skies."_

 _While the wolf waits below, hungry and lonely,_

 _Crying to the moon,_

" _If only, if only."_

She sends a gentle breeze coaxing the boy from the position he was in. The red mark was already lighting up the boy's cheek. It was then she noticed the bruises on his arms. Gently with a sad smile she beckoned him over.

 _CRUNCH!_ The sound echoes in the silence. Footsteps echo in the snow slowly approaching.

Someone had followed her

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"It's too damn cold to be doing this." He mutters to himself trudging through the ice and sleet. Peeta Mellark, the boy's name was. The baker's son. Who would've known that kid would turn out to be a mutant.

He spies a woman standing, looking into the window of the bakery. She was wearing a nightgown and nothing else. As she shifts to another window he follows trying to sneak up behind her.

The closest he can get is seeing a flash of blond hair before he is launched backwards by a large gust of wind. Her silhouette is turned towards him now. So much for a sneak attack. He grabs the heaviest thing he can find near and launches at the woman. With a flick of her wrist the wind knocks it down. A bright flash is launched at him forcing him to fall to his side back into the freezing cold. Pain seers through his arm as the lightning catches it. He grunts shaking it off before standing. The shadow continues to throw whatever she can conjure at him. There's a reason why she's not a soldier. Her aim isn't very good. She was made for enchanting. Not fighting.

He charges forcing his strength against the wind. He tackles the body into the cold snow pinning her down easily. Silver eyes meet a pair of sky blues ones. Very familiar ones…

"Effie?"

"Haymitch…"


	6. Lonely

**I have never been so thankful/sad in my life that Hayffie week is coming to an end. I enjoyed everyone's work so much but then I scrambled to get my own done xD Be sure to leave some requests in the reviews and I will get to them not this Tuesday but next cause I am actually one week ahead on L &L updates! Woo! Now to work on Infected and ELS XD**

It's official, Effie's decides. District 13 is a living hell.

Devoid of fresh air and any color she used to feel claustrophobic. Now? She feels so incredibly alone.

The war had ended a month ago and the trials were beginning. It had been a week since Haymitch and the children left for twelve. She was going to go too, to make sure they were okay. Once they were settled she'd take the train back to the Capitol. She had had everything planned out.

She didn't plan the guards stopping her at the hovercraft. She didn't plan on them putting her into confinement. She most certainly didn't plan on being put on trial.

Everyone was being put on trial, they told her. Even Plutarch. She decided that those were a bunch of lies once she saw him get on the hovercraft for the Capitol. That was also a month ago.

She keeps herself busy enough. They let her have her sewing machine at least and some spare fabrics. When the air seems too still she finds herself speaking to the guard posted outside her cell. He's twenty four, married, father of two year old twin boys. A very proud father at that. His name is Maximus. He lets her call him Max. Max is the only one who seems to show her any semblance of kindness, humanity even.

When Max wasn't on duty she'd softly sing or whistle to herself. She hated the silence.

She wonders sometimes if they children even knew where she was. She wonders what they were doing now. She lets her mind dance with images of Katniss; arms poised, back straight, firing an arrow perfectly at her target. She imagines Peeta painting the sunset or baking cakes, it depends on the day. She doesn't like thinking of Haymitch now. It hurts too much. She knows where he is, hunched over a bottle or passed out on a couch somewhere.

She thinks of Haymitch in the past. The way his eyes sparkled when he smirked with mischief. The hope in his eyes as the children brought the berries to their lips. The way his lips pressed against her forehead as she cried herself to sleep. How his arms felt around her when the bombs rained down on 13. His smile at Finnick and Annie's wedding.

But her heart lurches when she does so. She wonders if he thinks of her.

One day they haul her into a hovercraft and send her to the Capitol. Her wrists are chained together but it's almost okay because Max keeps watch over her. They talk through the whole flight as he sits by her side. He's the only one that smiles.

The trial was long and tedious. Some claimed she was innocent due to the fact that she sided with the Mockingjay. Others simply wanted her head because she was the only escort that survived the war.

She's not sure what she believes anymore.

Even in the Capitol where she at least gets a more comfy bed to sleep in she feels lonely. Max is the only one to talk to really. Even then he won't let her talk about the trial. He acts like he knows nothing. She knows it's a lie.

Even in her own home she can't help but feel suffocated by District 13. Grey is everywhere she is. At the trial, in the restaurants, guarding outside her door. Max sneaks her a red barrette. It wasn't much. But it shows she hasn't lost her ability to see color.

Haymitch finds her a week later. He swears he'll help her get out of the trials. She wants to believe him.

But she doesn't.

All of the game makers but Plutarch are executed. They still believed in Snow. Even after what he had done.

She wonders if she'd see more colors when she dies.

It takes Katniss and Peeta a week to come down. It has been such a long time since she's smiled when she wasn't talking to Max. It felt foreign.

Haymitch hadn't told them where she was. They had seen mention of the trials in on tv. They had heard about the seven game makers that died. They knew she was next.

She doesn't want to talk about the trial though. Instead she watches the children. She watches Peeta while he bakes or paints. Marvelling at the level of concentration the boy has as he carefully ices a cake.

She listens to Katniss. She listens to her talk about how Peeta had planted primroses around their house. How it had added so much color to Victors Village.

She asks Peeta to paint a picture of it for her. When he finishes it is the most beautiful painting she has ever seen.

That was the first time she had cried since her imprisonment.

Haymitch, however, doesn't need to talk and he doesn't like being watched. So instead he holds her at night and they fend off each others nightmares together.

Within the week she is put on trial. She listens with a blank face the charges she's being pressed with. Murder is the one that hurts the most. She flinches at the word as if it was a weapon in itself. She listens as people defend her case for her. Katniss, Peeta, Haymitch, Plutarch… Even Annie and Johanna make an appearance one day. Not that Johanna was all that helpful but it's the thought that counts. She doesn't even try to defend herself.

On the last day, though, her final chance to plead for a chance before the jury makes their decision she parts her lips.

"I know what I did was wrong. I killed people, no, children… I sent children to their deaths every year. By every right I deserve to die. But they don't deserve that." Her eyes fall on the children and Haymitch. "They don't deserve to see another person they care about die. Everyone has already lost so much in the war. Please, don't make them lose anymore."

The vote comes back the next day.

Not guilty.

Within the the new 48 hours she packs her stuff and bids Max goodbye. She takes the first train back to District 12 as soon as she can.

As she steps onto the snow covered ground of the place where she used to despise. She finally feels like she can breathe. With Haymitch and the children on her side, she doesn't feel so alone anymore.

She is home.


End file.
